


Just Hold On

by YourLocalSpaceAce (Shyartsyone)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Asexual Character, F/F, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Lovers to Friends, Lovers to Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-11-08
Packaged: 2019-08-20 18:23:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,746
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shyartsyone/pseuds/YourLocalSpaceAce
Summary: It's the beginning of the hiatus. The boys have all gone their separate ways, starting their own music. Two of them, however, are suffering broken hearts. They try to stay away from each other, but they somehow end up in the same city, same hotel, same floor. And their peaceful world explodes into chaos.





	Just Hold On

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! I hope you like this; it's been in progress for approximately ten months. I don't know if it's actually any good or not, but I thought I'd post it anyway. Enjoy!

'And I can lend your broken parts  
That might fit like this  
And I will give you all my heart  
So we can start it all over again.'  
-One Direction, Over Again

Harry's POV  
Harry wished he could go back, undo all his mistakes, make everything right again. Everything had been going so well. Until it all changed.   
He sat up, drying his eyes. He couldn't spend the break like this. It was supposed to be about spending time alone, hanging out with his family, getting over everything. Not spending the day sobbing into his pillow. He went into the bathroom and splashed cold water over his face, hoping to get himself to snap out of it. It did just enough so that he felt like he could go downstairs. He got dressed in black skinny jeans, boots, and a blue flannel, unbuttoned half way down his chest. He walked down the hall, pulling his hair into a bun as he went.   
Today was the first day of the second week of the hiatus, and he already missed the boys. He also missed writing songs, staying up late recording, getting up early to go to a new location, performing in front of the best crowds in the world.   
"Morning, Harry!" Gemma said as he walked into the kitchen. "Well, more like afternoon, but oh well," she added, her eyes laughing.   
"I though you were working today?" He asked, giving her a one armed hug.  
"Nah, I got the day off. Thought you and I could go for a walk, hang out like we used to," she grinned up at him.   
"That would be really nice!" Harry said, forcing himself to smile and seem excited. Sure, he wanted to hang out with Gemma. Going for walks was always nice. But right now, he felt like his heart had been torn to pieces; dropped off of a cliff onto a bed of knives.   
He went over to the counter and got a bowl, cereal, and milk, then decided he wasn't really that hungry, and instead grabbed a banana. He forced himself to peel it and eat it, even though each mouthful made him feel sick.   
"Are you alright, Harry?" Gemma asked, watching him. "You look off."  
"'M fine," Harry mumbled, not looking at her. She could always tell when he was lying.   
"You aren't," she said. "You don't have to tell me if you don't want to, but just remember that I'll be here if you do want to talk."   
He nodded, holding back tears. Unable to finish the banana, he threw out the peel with the last couple bites still there.   
"Let's go," he said, smiling slightly at her. She smiled back, taking his hand as they went outside.  
They wandered around Holmes Chapel for over an hour, visiting their childhood haunts, places where they had spent special moments together. They talked about almost everything, except the band. They stayed well away from that topic, and anytime Harry felt they were getting near it, he would change the subject.   
By the time they got home, their parents had gotten home from work, and were in the living room.   
"Hi, Harry, Gemma," Anne said, smiling at them. "Did you have a nice walk?"  
Harry nodded, while Gemma sat next to her mum, scrutinizing Harry. She opened her mouth to say something to him, but he shook his head slightly, indicating that the last thing he wanted to do at the moment was talk. He looked at his parents, opening his mouth to say something, but before he could, he was sucked into a memory. A memory of sitting exactly like they were, with someone special. 

*Flashback*  
They were sitting on a log by a river, right near the X-Factor studio. The faced each other, neither looking directly at the other.  
"What did you want to talk about?" Louis eventually asked.  
"This is so much harder than I thought it would be!" Harry exclaimed after a pause. "I don't know how to start." He stared down at the water jumping over the stones in the river. "I guess I'll start at the beginning, which is the fact that.... I'm gay." He paused, glancing at the other boy. He didn't look shocked.  
"That was kinda obvious," Louis said, quietly.  
"Oh.... Then I guess my mum knows too," Harry said, sighing. "Well, the other part is that I um... I like you." It was out of his mouth before he could stop it.  
"Really?" Louis asked, sounding breathless. Harry nodded. He didn't look up, even when he heard the other boy stand up. Suddenly, Louis was in front of him, kneeling down, looking up into his face. "I like you too, Hazza." Harry had never heard that nickname before, but knew immediately that he liked it coming from Louis' mouth.  
"But - I thought you were straight?" Harry asked, looking into his eyes.  
"I thought so too, but then I met you," Louis whispered. He placed his hands on Harry's cheeks, and Harry could feel him shaking. They slowly moved together, their lips touching softly.  
*End Flashback*

"Harry? Are you alright?" Harry blinked, shook his head slightly, and looked at his mum.  
"Yeah, I'm fine," he muttered. This was a complete lie. His eyes were burning, and there was a lump in his throat. "I'll be upstairs," he mumbled, looking at the floor.   
Once in his room, he leaned against the closed door, his eyes closed. 'I can't do this,' he thought. He slowly slid down the door into a crouching position, his head in his hands. Before he knew it, he was crying again. Needing to get his feelings out. He had felt like this before, but then he had put his feelings into music, along with one of the other boys.   
He stood up, almost mechanically, walked over to his desk, pulled out a piece of paper, and began writing. If he could do it before, why couldn't he do it now?

Three hours later, he was pacing his room, crumpled up pieces of paper piled in the general area of the overflowing waste basket. His hair was a mess, his sleeves were pushed up, but he felt much better. Even though he hadn't gotten anything he really liked yet, there were a few ideas that had stuck. He ran back over to his desk, sat down, wrote frantically for a minute or two, paused, read what he had written, crumpled it up, and threw it at the waste basket, missing by about a foot.   
There was a knock on the door, and he hastily flipped over the beginnings of another song before replying.  
"It's Gemma," his sister answered. "Can I come in?"  
"Sure." Harry turned in his chair, straddling the back. His sister walked in, looked around, then looked at him.   
"Are you writing?" She asked curiously. He nodded. "We thought so. We can hear you pacing from downstairs." She smiled, closing the door behind her and sitting down in front of him on the bed. "Mum sent me to -"  
Harry held up a hand. "Hold it!" He said, spinning around in his chair, flipping the paper over, and writing down the idea he'd just had. He read through it, groaned, and forcefully crumpled it up and chucked it at the waste basket. "Never mind," he grumbled, turning back around. "What were you saying?"  
"Mum sent me to see if you want to talk to me," Gemma said, having watched this play out before her with an amused smile playing on her lips. "She said that you really need to talk. You haven't been yourself. You've been really sad since you came home. Please talk to me, Harry. I miss you're happiness," she finished, looking sad now.   
Harry half turned, resting his elbow on his desk, his forehead on his hand. He was silent for several minutes, before looking up at her, and the pain in his eyes startled her. "Have you ever been forced to break up with someone because other people said that it wouldn't be good for the public image? Have you ever been forced to go out with someone you don't like to create a false image?" Gemma shook her head. "Then you can't understand. You'll hopefully never understand." He turned around, his face on his arms, trying not to cry. He felt his sisters hand on his shoulder, but he shook her off.   
"I'm sorry, Gems, but right now I need to be alone," he said, looking up at her, pleading her to understand. She nodded, smiled sadly at him, and left.   
Harry stood up, pacing again. Then it came to him. The lyrics. Followed quickly by the tune. He sat down, quickly scribbling it out before it left his head. 

/Meet me in the hallway/  
/Meet me in the hallway/  
/I just left your bedroom/  
/Give me some morphine/  
/Is there any more to do?/

Pulling out his guitar, he quickly figured out the chords with the few skills Niall had taught him. He played them several times through, figuring out the beat. He sang quietly along with it, and decided that he liked it. Bending over the paper again, he wrote the next verse, and the next, playing the each one, doing some edits. He was so focused on his work, that he didn't hear his mum calling him for dinner, or the knock on the door. In fact, he wasn't aware of anything until he felt the hand on his shoulder. He jumped so badly he almost wrecked the neck of his guitar against the edge of the desk.  
"Oh, sorry, Harry!" His mum apologized, stepping back.   
"It's fine, Mum," he said, taking the strap of his guitar off and setting it on its stand next to his desk.   
"You finally having some success, then?" She asked, smiling. He nodded, running his hand through his snarled hair. "Good. Well, dinner's ready, if you want to come down to eat."   
"Alright, I'll be right down," he replied distractedly. She nodded and went back downstairs. Harry sat there for a few more minutes, then put his hair into a bun, getting up and going downstairs. He was distracted all through dinner, and barely contributed to the conversation. He ate quickly, then excused himself, hurrying back upstairs.   
By the time his mum came in to say goodnight, he was almost done with the song. He said goodnight distractedly, and only nodded a little when she said to get some sleep. At last, well after midnight, the final verse came to him:

/We don't talk about it/  
/It's something we don't do/  
/'Cause once you go without it/  
/Nothing else will do/

He felt like celebrating. He tacked the piece of paper up on his wall so that he wouldn't mix it up with the failed attempts, and sat down on the edge of his bed. The rest of his family had gone to be hours ago, so he couldn't play it. At least, not inside. Picking up his guitar and taking it back down off of the wall, he crept softly down the stairs and out the front door. He sat on the porch, the lyrics beside him, his guitar resting on his knee. He strummed a bit before finding the tune in his head. Playing the chords once through before starting to sing, he sang with no thoughts about anyone hearing him.  
After he finished, Harry finally felt somewhat happy. He sat on the porch for a while longer before heading back inside and getting in bed. It was past four in the morning.

/Should be laughing, but there's something wrong/  
/And it hits me when the lights go on/  
/Shit, maybe I miss you/  
-Louis Tomlinson, 'Miss You'

Louis POV  
Louis groaned, rolling out of his bed. He wished he could turn back time, undo last night. He could barely remember, but he knew he had had one too many drinks, and there had been some hot guy who threw himself at Louis... Louis had just lost control. They had had sex in the pub's bathroom, and then just walked away from each other. What had happened to the man who was always against things like that?  
He sat on the edge of his bed, holding his pounding head in his hands. It was shortly after he'd come out of the bathroom that he'd started thinking about him again. The reason why he'd been happy for five years, and why he was so fucking miserable now. He stood up, feeling lightheaded. He walked into the bathroom, balancing himself on the doorway as he walked in. He stared at himself in the mirror for a good two minutes. He looked like shit. Turning on the faucet to cold, he splashed water over his face. When that failed to snap him out of his hungover daze, he decided to take a cold shower. This seemed to work; at least, when he got out he looked like less of a vampire and more of a human being.   
Wandering back into his room, he dressed in a tight long sleeved black t-shirt and black skinny jeans before heading downstairs. Getting himself a glass of water, he took an Advil before downing the water. He leaned against the counter, staring out of the window. He jumped when his phone went off in his back pocket. Taking it out, he saw a message from Liam.  
*Hey mate, how're you doing?*  
/Alright, I guess/  
*Let me ask again... How are you actually doing?*  
Louis had to smile a little at this. Liam knew him too well.  
/Shitty/  
*Yeah, I bet. You talked to Harry since?*  
/No./  
*You don't wanna talk about it, do you*  
/I'd rather not/  
*That's fine*  
Louis set his phone down on the counter, one arm across his stomach, his other elbow resting on it, his forehead on his hand. Liam had brought all the memories crashing back.

*Flashback*  
"Hey, Hazza?"  
"Yea, Lou?"  
"Can I say something?"  
"Sure." Harry turned to him, expectant.  
"I love you."   
Harry looked shocked for a moment, then smiled happily. "I love you too, Lou," he replied.  
"You do?" Louis was happy to get this response.  
"Of course I do!" Harry kissed him to prove it. "I never wanna leave you," he whispered, leaning against Louis' chest.  
"I never wanna leave you either," Louis whispered back.   
*End Flashback*

Louis gave his head a little shake, deciding what he needed was fresh air. He headed outside, only to see a girl at the edge of the road, apparently waiting for just this moment. He turned and hurried back inside. He couldn't deal with things like that right now. Upon reentering the kitchen, he saw a note on the table that he'd missed earlier. It was from his mum.

Morning sweetie,  
I hope you're feeling better this morning. When you came home last night you were babbling and sobbing about random things. Harry came up a lot. I thought you could do with some pancakes for breakfast; they're in the oven. I'll be home around two, Dan will be home at around four. Lottie is at a friends house, Felicite left for Wales this morning, and the twins are all at my mums house for the day.  
Much love and kisses,  
Mum

Louis smiled slightly, turning and opening the oven. Sure enough, there was a plate of pancakes setting in there. He pulled it out and ate some of them, not feeling particularly hungry. After he was done, he checked the time: almost one. His mum would be home in an hour. Deciding to help out a bit, he cleaned the kitchen, putting away the clean dishes and washing the dirty ones.   
An hour later, Jay came home. She walked in, and Louis got up from the kitchen table where he'd been staring into space.  
"Hey, Mum," he said, kissing her on the cheek.  
"Hey, sweetie. How're you doing this morning?" She asked, looking at him closely. Louis shrugged and gave a noncommittal jerk of his head. She smiled sympathetically. "You drank way too much last night, honey."  
"I know," Louis said, looking down. He hated this part. "Not knowing what was going on felt good, though," he muttered.   
"I understand," she sighed. "Any plans for what you might want to do now that you no longer have a band?"  
"I might travel around a bit, figure things out," Louis replied. "Might go to America, see if I can get any ideas there." Jay nodded. It had been almost a month since the beginning of the hiatus, and Louis had spent it depressed and bored. Also drunk.   
"You need to do something with yourself," his mum said. "You've never been one to sit around doing nothing for very long." Louis nodded.  
"I think I'll start looking at flights to New York," Louis said. "From there I could just hop around the country for a while, ya know?"  
"That sounds good."  
"Thank you for the pancakes, by the way," he added, smiling a little as he looked at her.   
"Your welcome, love." Jay looked at him, scrutinizing him. "You really don't look good, honey. Don't go out again tonight. Please?"   
"I won't, Mum. Don't worry," he said, hugging her. "Last night made me feel like shit."  
"What exactly happened?" She asked.  
"I drank one or two too many shots, got incredibly drunk, and a hot guy started hitting on me. I wasn't thinking straight, so I let him bring me into the bathroom and fuck me. Then I realized what I had done, and drank more and more. I felt like I'd cheated on.... /him/." Louis had tears in his eyes.   
"Oh, sweetie," his mum said, hugging him tightly. "It's fine. It'll all be fine, I promise." He cried into her shoulder, and she let him for a few minutes before lifting him away and wiping the tears off of his cheeks. "I am glad you told me. I'm glad you know you can," she said quietly, kissing him gently on the cheek. "I love you."  
"I love you too, Mum," he whispered.   
"Now let's go look at flight tickets. I'll help you, alright?" He nodded, happy that she wanted to help, even though he knew she missed him whenever he went away. She had always said that he was her best friend, and that hadn't changed when he' done away. 

Three hours later, he had booked a flight to New York for the next day, and his mum had helped him pack. She had left him sitting on his bed, staring at his old soccer trophies. It seemed like his imagination, and the part of his brain that helped him write songs, had left him just like *he* had. Taking his phone out, he opened his messages, typing in Harry's number without really thinking about it. He had typed up a message when he thought better of it. Would it be a good idea to see him, so soon? Probably not. 

Harry's POV  
Three more weeks had passed, and he still hadn't gotten up the nerve to text Louis. Maybe this was good, maybe it was bad.   
"Harry, come on! You need to hurry up, or we'll be late!" His mum called up the stairs.  
"Coming mum!" He called back, breaking off his staring contest with the wall. He grabbed his suitcase and his guitar, putting his sunglasses on as he hurried down the stairs. Robin took his suitcase out to the car for him while he stopped in the kitchen.   
"I'll see you soon, Gems," he said, hugging her tightly. "I love you."  
"Love you too, little brother," she said, smiling at him. "Have fun!"  
"I will!" Harry hurried out to the car, hugged Robin goodbye, and got into the passengers seat, his mum in the drivers seat. The ride to the airport was a long one, and they arrived just as the sun was beginning to set. They had made many stops along the way, both necessary and unnecessary. Harry got out of the car first, pulling on a black beanie and putting his sunglasses back on. His mum got out, and helped him bring his bags inside. They got dinner at one of the restaurants in the airport, eating it rather quickly. Then it was time to say goodbye. He had a little over half an hour to get his bags checked and get himself through security.   
"I love you mum," he said, hugging her tightly.   
"I love you too, Harry," she replied, kissing his cheek. "Have fun, and remember to call!"  
"Of course I will! Has a day ever gone by while I've been away that I haven't called you at least twice?" Harry asked, grinning down at her.  
"No, of course not," she said laughing. "I remember when you would call me at least five times a day." Harry laughed too.  
"Bye, mum," he said, kissing her on the cheek. Just before he was out of sight, he turned and waved. She waved back, blowing him a kiss. Then he turned and headed for his plane. He boarded just in time, settling into his first class seat just as the alert went off, telling him to buckle. He leaned back, sighing as the plane took off, carrying him across the ocean and to New York.

/It makes this harder/  
/And the tears stream down my face/  
/If we could only have this life for one more day/  
/If we could only turn back time./  
-One Direction, Moments

Harry's POV  
The plane landed in New York at around nine in the morning, eastern standard time. Harry got off the plane and managed to not get recognized all the way to the car he'd booked ahead of time. He told the driver the address, and watched out of the window as the buildings began looking more and more familiar, until finally, they got to the hotel that the band had always stayed at when in New York. He hadn't been able to resist the urge; in fact, he'd booked the room before he'd even really thought at all.   
He arrived in the room, smiling at the familiar sight. He immediately went out onto the porch. It was on the top floor, so there wasn't a chance of being recognized from below.   
His phone went off. He panicked. What if it's Louis? an unbidden voice questioned in the back of his mind. He ignored it, pulled it out, and saw a text from Liam.  
*Hey, mate. I've missed you. L*  
/Hey, Liam. Miss you too. H/  
*Any chance of meeting up sometime soon?*  
/Not unless you happen to be in New York lol/  
*You're in New York?*  
/Yeah, why?/  
*Nothing. Why're you over there?*  
/Want to do some interviews. Maybe find a label./  
*Nice*  
Harry went back inside and sat on the bed. Why had Liam seemed surprised to hear that Harry was in New York? Surely it wasn't that odd... Shaking his head, he stood up, deciding to go down to the restaurant and grab a bite to eat. Hiding his long hair in a black beanie, he went down and found an empty corner of the restaurant, somewhat hidden behind a screen. He kept his head bent down, waiting for a waiter to come over. Thankfully, it was a waiter who had seen him and the band there plenty of times, so wasn't surprised.  
"The usual?" He asked, smiling down at Harry.   
"Yes, please," Harry replied, attempting to smile back. Here was yet more unneeded evidence that 1D had stayed at that hotel too often. He tilted his chair back slightly, staring out of a window as the waiter took his menu and left. Maybe getting out of the house /was/ helping. He already felt happier and more alive than he had in over a month.   
Several minutes later, the waiter came back with his food. "Here you are," he said, setting it down in front of Harry. "And I brought this over. Thought you might want to add to it, like you usually do." He was holding out the poster of 1D that the boys had signed upon their first stay, and added a little something to it each time they were there. The waiter also had the purple sparkly pen that Harry always used.  
"Alright," Harry said, smiling up at him. He thought for a moment, then added a heart with the date written in it. The waiter thanked him, then left, pausing to pin the poster back up behind the bar.   
Half an hour later, Harry got up and left. Once back in his room, he went into the bedroom, quickly unpacking his suit case. He hung the distressed black skinny jeans and blue button down shirt on the door, before heading back out onto the porch. It was one in the afternoon now, but, thanks to jet lag, it felt a lot later to Harry. He leaned against the railing, wondering if he would be able to make it through the day or not.

Louis' POV  
Louis was exhausted. He'd stayed up late for way too long, going to the bar almost every night, drinking away his misery. And now, it was only four in the afternoon, but, since it was New York instead of Doncaster, it felt like nine o'clock at night. He knew it was way too early to start drinking, but he already felt the heavy depression and loneliness coming down on him that always attacked him in the evenings. He was standing on his balcony on the top floor of the hotel, staring down into the street far below, when his phone buzzed in his back pocket.  
*Be careful wandering around New York. L*  
/Why?/  
*You might run into some people you don't want to see. You remember how it always was. Just be careful.*  
/Alright, I will./  
Frowning, he put his phone back in his pocket. Why would Liam be telling him to be careful? Liam knew he was usually well aware of his surroundings... Unless maybe he was warning him to not drink too much. That was probably it. Shaking his head, he pulled the piece of worn paper and the pen from his pocket, again trying to let out his thoughts into songwriting.   
Three hours later, he gave up resisting the urge to go down to the bar. He put on a black beanie and headed out of his room and down the hall to the elevator. Just as he was walking into it, he heard footsteps behind him. Not wanting to get recognized by someone, he hastily pulled out his phone, bending over it so the person couldn't see his face. He glanced up when the elevator began to move, and froze in shock. 

Harry's POV  
At seven, Harry decided to head down to the bar again to eat a little something, and probably drink a little. As he neared the elevator, he saw a guy getting in ahead of him. He sped up his stride, bending his head down, to catch this lift instead of waiting for it to come back up. He entered, saw that the man had already selected the ground floor, and leaned against the corner. The other man seemed to be hiding his face. Figuring he must be some celebrity, Harry took out his phone, checking his messages. Of course, he didn't have anything from Louis. Why would he? He glanced up a moment later after seeing some movement out of the corner of his eye, and felt his heart rate speed up dramatically.   
"L-Louis?" He stuttered, his voice gruff. He cleared his throat, staring into those eyes he'd fallen in love with so many years ago.   
"Hi, Harry," Louis said quietly. Harry suddenly felt extremely claustrophobic and was very glad when the lift doors opened a few seconds later, letting him out. He practically ran into the bar, trying to get away. However much he may have wanted to see Louis again, he didn't feel ready to face him yet.   
A few minutes later, he sat in the corner of the bar, drink in hand, downing it quickly. Louis was on the other side of the bar, staring at the 1D poster. Harry tried not to look at him, but he felt his gaze straying back to him as he saw Louis downing one drink after another, as if trying to drown himself. Harry had gotten another drink, but was savoring it so as not to feel too drunk. He glanced at Louis again, and saw him doing something on his phone. A moment later, his own phone buzzed in his hand. Before he looked down at it, he saw Louis looking at him, and knew it would be from him. Sure enough, he looked down and saw Louis' name on his screen, still with the heart emoji next to it.  
*We need to talk.*  
Harry looked up. Louis was still watching him. Harry looked down again, took a deep breath, and stood up. He walked slowly over to where Louis was sitting and sat down, careful not to touch him.  
"Hey," he murmured. Louis shot him a small, nervous smile.  
"Hi. How're you?" he asked quietly. Harry shrugged. "I know." Louis whispered, looking down into his almost empty glass.   
"So... How often do you drink like this?" Harry asked, gesturing to the glass.  
"Almost every night," Louis replied, pushing the glass away from him. "I try not too, but then I just feel like shit. Feel like life isn't worth it." Harry nodded. "So pretty much every day is a crap day," Louis finished, looking up at Harry. Harry could see that the light that used to shine in his eyes had gone out, leaving his eyes dull and pain-filled.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his eyes filling with tears.   
"It's not your fucking fault," Louis growled. "It's managements fault, and my fault for telling you that it would all work out, for getting your hopes up when I sort of knew they would always be crushed."

*Flashback*  
Harry sat next to Louis, waiting for the blow he knew was going to come.   
"You guys need to break up," Matt said. "The fans are starting to figure it out, and that's not good. You can take a break from the band if you need time apart to figure things out, but either way you need to break up."  
"What if we don't give a shit?" Louis asked harshly.   
"Well, I do, and I know that you boys don't want your careers crushed this early on," Matt replied.  
"This is 2015, Matt," Harry said, his voice painful. "People are more accepting."  
"I'm sorry to say this, but most of you boys' success comes from the girls hoping you'll fall in love with them," Matt said harshly.  
"That's a lie," Louis said, forcefully, but quietly. "You know it is."  
"Fine, you're right, I do know that, but honestly, you can't be together. I care about you boys, no matter what you might be thinking right now."  
Harry looked at Louis and knew that they were both thinking the same thing. He was right.  
*End Flashback*

"We were so fucking brainwashed by them," Harry muttered. "Why would we choose our careers over love?"  
"Harry, look at what's happening here, in the United States. A fucking psychopath is running for president, and /winning/. Because he's against immigration, and the LGBTQ+ community. We live in a fucked up world." Louis looked angry, sad, and depressed. "We can't be together. We both know that. But we can try to be friends, can't we?"  
Harry stared. Louis couldn't possibly have any idea how much that hurt. "You just want to be friends," Harry said, looking down. "I get it."  
"Harry, that's not what I - " Louis started, reaching out a hand. Harry shook his head.   
"I know what you mean. You saying that just... It just seemed to tear me apart again, ya know?" He stood up. "I'm going to bed. Might see you tomorrow." He walked away, knowing Louis was staring after him, knowing that if he looked back, he would see the hurt look in Louis' eyes, and that it would then be impossible to continue walking.   
He looked back. 

Louis' POV  
Louis sat still, watching Harry walk away. He knew he had hurt Harry when he asked if they could be friends, and he felt awful. He also knew that Harry would either keep walking without looking back, or he would look back, and then he would come back over.   
Sure enough, at the door of the restaurant, Harry seemed to loose the internal battle. He turned his head, and looked straight into Louis' eyes. He seemed to hit a wall. He stopped walking, then, after a second, turned and walked back. He sat back down on the stool he'd just vacated, looking down at his hands. They sat in silence for several minutes.  
"I'm sorry, Hazza," Louis said quietly.  
Harry looked up at him, his eyes filling with tears. "Don't apologize," he said quietly. Without thinking, Louis held his arms out to hug him. Harry seemed to resist the urge for a moment, then leaned in and let Louis hug him.   
"I'm so sorry. I fucking dumped you," Louis whispered, feeling a lump growing in his throat. A minute later, tears were pouring down his face. He buried his face in Harry's shoulder, shaking with sobs. 

*Flashback*  
"He's right, Hazza," Louis said. "We need to break up."  
"What?" Harry looked shocked and confused. "No, we don't. We can hide this. I need you, Lou!"  
"But we've been trying to hide it, Harry, and fans have been figuring it out. We have to be over." Louis couldn't look at Harry. He knew that Harry would hate him forever for saying that. "I'm sorry, Hazza," he whispered.  
"Don't say that!" Harry exclaimed. "We aren't over; we can't be!"  
"Yes we are. We have to be." Louis tried to walk away, but Harry grabbed his hand.   
"Please, don't do this to me!" Harry begged, tears falling down his cheeks. "Don't leave me!"  
"I'm sorry, Harry," Louis said, finally looking at him. "I have to." And he walked away, hiding his face from Harry so that he wouldn't see the tears.  
*End Flashback*

Louis felt Harry pulling away, and he wiped his eyes. He looked up at Harry, trying to find out what was going on in that beautiful mind. Finally, Harry said, "We have to try to be friends. We can't be anything more, but anything less would kill both of us." It felt like a shot in the heart, and Louis felt as though his poorly mended heart was falling apart again. But he knew Harry was right.   
Without thinking, he said, "Will you let me love you goodbye?" The moment the words were out of his mouth, he winced. He and Harry had written that song, shortly after they broke up. It was the last addition to the album, Made In The A.M.. They both knew the meaning behind it.  
Harry looked up at him, shocked. Louis felt terrible. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have - I don't know why I said that," he apologized quickly, looking down. "Pretend I didn't say anything."  
"But what if I don't want to?" Harry asked, and Louis suddenly felt his warm breath on his face. "What if I want to 'love you goodbye'?" Louis looked up, certain he would see the glint in Harry's eyes that meant he was joking. It wasn't there. Their faces were inches apart.   
"Really?" Louis asked. "Are you sure it's a good idea? I mean, it might make everything so much harder than it already is."  
"Louis, I doubt this can get any harder than it is. I need this, you need this; we need this. No, it probably isn't a good idea. But I don't fucking care." Louis had never heard Harry sound so torn apart, so angry, so sad, and yet so fucking desperate. Harry stood up, holding out his hand to Louis. Louis took it, letting Harry pull him up. He felt a little dizzy upon standing, but ignored it.  
Moments later, they were once again alone in the elevator, but this time it wasn't uncomfortable. The atmosphere had never felt more desperate between them. The second the doors slid shut, Harry was pressing Louis against the wall, bringing their lips crashing together. It had been too long since Louis had felt those perfect lips against his own. He kissed Harry with all of the love and passion he possessed.   
They were interrupted by the ding of the doors as they opened again, this time on their floor. Not bothering to let go of Harry's waist, Louis let Harry lead him down the hall and into his room. The door closed behind them, and this time it was Louis who pressed Harry against the wall, pinning him there, kissing him with all his might. Their tongues lashed together, and Louis' hand moved slowly but certainly down Harry's torso, ending at his waistband. Harry pushed him away suddenly, nearly running backwards. He was shaking his head, and upon closer inspection, Louis realised that Harry was shaking. He was on the verge of a panic attack.

Harry's POV  
Breathe, he thought. You need to breathe. But he couldn't. He couldn't do it. He was going to pass out, here, on the hotel floor. His vision started to go as he struggled to get air through lungs that suddenly seemed to be full of water. He was shaking so badly he could hardly stand, and he felt tears begin to pour down is face.   
Suddenly, he was enveloped in warmth. Someone was speaking to him, he could hear the voice. He was guided to the floor, and he heard the word 'breathe'. Someone was counting, "in two three four, out two three four", over and over again. It no longer felt like his lungs were full of water. He took several deep breaths, and his vision slowly cleared. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against Louis' warm chest, his arms wrapped around him.   
"Shit, I'm sorry," Harry mumbled. "I'm so sorry."  
"What the hell're you apologising for?" Louis asked, and Harry could hear the frown in his voice.   
"For reacting like that. I'm sorry. I don't know why - " Louis cut him off before he could finish.  
"It's not your fault, Haz. To be honest, I don't know why you reacted like that either, but it's probably a god thing. We were being stupid, weren't we?"   
Harry nodded, pulling away from Louis' chest. It reminded him of too much he could never get back. He turned, moving backwards, until he was leaning against the opposite wall, elbows resting on knees, head bowed. He bit his lip, flickering his eyes up to Louis' and back down. Louis had pulled his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them.   
"Do you think us being friends is a good idea?" Louis asked after several moments' silence.   
Even though it hurt, Harry knew what he meant. Would they, once the became friends again, be able to keep it platonic? "I don't know, Lou," he replied. "We don't have a band to supposedly ruin anymore."  
"But we promised we'd be back," Louis protested. "We promised our fans we would come back. We can't break that promise."  
Harry thought for a moment, the words on the tip of his tongue struggling to get out. "What if we get new management? Management that doesn't care? That'll let us be us?"  
"That sounds wonderful, Harry," Louis said, and Harry flinched at the icy tone. "When you find a fucking management that's not stuck in the nineteen-hundreds, you will let me know, won't you? Although by then my singing voice will probably be shot, or I may be dead." His voice became sharper, carved with pain. "There's no such thing as a management that will let us be us, Harry! I looked and looked, don't you remember? I've been searching for years. It doesn't fucking exist. There's no point." His voice broke with the last sentence, and he stood up quickly. "I'm going to my room."  
"What - Lou, no, wait - " but he was gone. Harry buried his face in his hands, cursing himself. He just couldn't keep his fat mouth shut, could he?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'll probably post more chapters eventually.   
> Love, YourLocalSpaceAce


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